


Eggnog and Mistletoe

by ofplanet_earth



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bilbo Baggins is an enabler, Bilbo has eggnog and a plan, Boss/Employee Relationship, Christmas Smut, Company Christmas Party, Desk Sex, Dirty Talk, Drunk Bard, Drunk Thranduil, Drunken Christmas Sex, Eggnog, Gift Exchange, Holiday Fic Exchange, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Matchmaker Bilbo Baggins, Mistletoe, Orgasm Delay/Denial, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 11:36:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5495678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofplanet_earth/pseuds/ofplanet_earth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bard makes it his mission to get Thranduil to join the holiday festivities, but things take an unexpected turn when they're both caught beneath some mistletoe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eggnog and Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poisongardens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisongardens/gifts).



> poisongardens and I decided to do a not-so-secret santa gift exchange since we missed out on the Barduil Secret Santa! they asked for drunken Christmas sex and... this is what happened. 
> 
> happy holidays!

"Bard!" Tauriel called from across the conference room, holding two beers above her head as she fought her way through the crowd. "I'm so glad you made it! You found a sitter alright?" 

"Yeah," Bard smiled as he took the bottle Tauriel offered him. "I know the invite said families welcome, but I didn't want to risk it after what happened last year." 

Tauriel cringed. "Not exactly child-appropriate." 

"Not exactly appropriate, period. If I never see Alfrid's bare arse again, it'll be too soon." 

"Cheers to that!" Tauriel lifted her glass to Bard's and they both drank deeply. Bard enjoyed his job and he liked his coworkers fine— he did. But last year's holiday party had become rather rowdy, and there was only so much he could endure without a decent buzz. He tried not to worry about it. His kids were in good hands for the night, safely away from drunken white collar professionals, and Bard was free to enjoy himself.

It wasn't long before Bilbo showed up with eggnog and a lumpy bag slung over his shoulder. From inside he pulled a batch of felt Christmas hats— Santas and elves and reindeer antlers. He wouldn't give out a glass of his _special recipe_ without a hat. Tauriel accepted a pair of antlers with a broad and wicked smile while Bard begrudgingly pulled a fuzzy Santa hat over his hair. 

It really was good eggnog. And strong, too. Soon Bard was laughing and dancing— very poorly, he was willing to admit. He was just on his way back to the drinks table for a refill when he caught sight of his boss through his open office door. Thranduil was sat behind his desk, pen in hand and and temples pinched between his fingertips.

Well that wouldn't do. 

"Two please, Bilbo." 

"Two?" Bilbo's eyes went wide. "You may be a fair bit taller than I am, but you're no match for my nan's famous eggnog." 

"It's not for me," Bard laughed. "Oropherion is still in his office working— missing out on this fun, can you imagine?" 

"Yes actually, I can." 

"Still," Bard shrugged. 

"Alright. But you've got to bring him a hat, too." 

"I dunno," Bard frowned. "That might be pushing our luck." 

"House rules. No one drinks my eggnog without a hat. Here," Bilbo pulled one of the last hats from his bag— green with a brown stripe and a pointed tip. 

"Oh, he's going to hate that." 

"It was your idea, Bowman. And besides, you're a very, erm…" Bilbo's cheeks flushed pink as he averted his eyes. "Persuasive man." Bilbo cleared his throat and flashed a quick smile. "If anyone'll be able to get him to loosen up, it's you." 

Bard chose to ignore… whatever Bilbo seemed to be suggesting and tucked the elf hat under one arm. "Remember me well if I don't come back," he sighed.

"Songs will be sung of your stout heart and your valour." Bard picked up both glasses, turning away with a laugh as Bilbo gave him a solemn salute. He crossed the conference room and navigated the wide corridors between the cubicles, clearing his throat in lieu of a knock as he came to stand before the open door to the boss's office. 

"Something I can help you with, Bard?" Thranduil's blond hair fell over his shoulders as he turned his attention back to the papers on his desk. 

"I come bearing gifts," Bard motioned with the glasses of eggnog in his hands. "Bilbo's special recipe. Quite good, too." He didn't wait for an invitation as he crossed to take a seat in front of the large mahogany desk. He kept the felt hat tucked beneath his arm as he held one of the drinks out to his boss. 

"I shouldn't," he frowned. 

"Come on, it's Christmas! Surely the company won't collapse if you take a break for the holidays." Bard still held the eggnog out between them as an offering. "Plus, Oakenshield has a bet going that you'll stay cooped up in here all night." Bard smirked at the frown that overcame Thranduil's face. It had been a calculated move on his part— everyone knew about their boss's dislike for the head of the marketing department. 

Thranduil raised an eyebrow and sighed before finally taking the drink. Bard smiled and sipped at his own glass, feeling very satisfied.

❄︎

It wasn't long before Bard was able to lure Thranduil out of his office with the promise of more eggnog— and gingerbread biscuits. That was important. He'd even gotten away with slipping the elf hat onto his boss's head as he'd followed him into the conference room. Thranduil had spun on him, his eyes wide with shock and Bard had been sure he was about to lose his job.

But another glass of eggnog was quickly pressed into Thranduil's hands by one beaming Bilbo Baggins and the slight was quickly forgiven. Bard even saw Thranduil crack a smile out of the corner of his eye as he nibbled on the gingerbread man Bard had fetched for him. 

Thranduil was no lightweight. Bard was nursing his fourth drink of the evening by 10pm but Thranduil had caught up and surpassed him already. His pale cheeks were bright with a light blush and Bard couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the sight of his smile. 

Maybe Bard ought to lay off the eggnog. 

He loaded a paper plate with more biscuits and hors d'oeuvres and skimmed round the perimeter of the room toward the water cooler. Jingle Bell Rock began to play and a roar erupted from the rowdy crowd. Bard leaned against the wall and sipped his water, watching as Tauriel laughed and danced with Kíli and Galion— the Human Resources manager was red in the face and smiling brightly, his movements decidedly less than graceful.

Bard was just beginning to wonder if he should head home before someone decided to drop their trousers at the front of the room _again_ , when Thranduil burst through the wall of bodies to stand beside him. He sighed and poured himself some water and leaned against the wall beside Bard. "Are these parties always so rowdy?" His voice was nearly a shout so he could be heard over the cacophony of the crowd." 

"Aye," Bard laughed. "They had to have the whole carpet professionally cleaned after last year." 

"I don't remember anything about that," Thranduil frowned. 

"That… may be because no one was supposed to tell you…" Bard cringed. He thought for sure his boss was going to be furious until his frown broke and a startled laugh burst through.

"Mistletoe!" Bilbo emerged from the crowd, one hand around Thorin Oakenshield's waist and the other pointing brazenly to the wall above the water cooler. "Oh, look! Mistletoe! Bard, you've got to kiss him!" 

"What?" Bard whipped his head around to see there was in fact mistletoe tacked to the wall above the cooler. He had a sneaking suspicion Bilbo had put it there— perhaps with the help of a taller person or a ladder. The smug look on Oakenshield's face and the pure delight on Bilbo's told Bard they were in on it together. 

"House rules!" 

Bard glared at Bilbo, throwing nervous glances around the crowd— all his coworkers had stopped dancing and every pair of eyes was on him. Him and Thranduil, by the water cooler, beneath a bundle of mistletoe tied with a red ribbon. Bard looked to his boss, nervous laughter and excuses wound tight in his chest.

They were lost in the moment Thranduil's lips met his. It was a soft thing— polite and hesitant at first— until Thranduil lingered a few moments too long and Bard didn't pull away. The room was quiet; even Mariah Carey singing _All I Want for Christmas is You_ seemed far away. And then they all disappeared. 

Blood rushed in Bard's ears and spiced eggnog swam behind his eyes as they fell closed. Heat blossomed on his skin and Thranduil's hands were cool on the skin at the base of his neck. The room fell further and further away, the sounds of cheering and laughter only barely registering beneath the sound of his and Thranduil's breath whistling harshly through their noses. 

What had started out as a simple press of lips had changed, devolved into a clash of teeth and a shy taste of tongue. Bard's arms had somehow wrapped themselves around Thranduil's shoulders. He registered the feeling of Thranduil's hands gripping his hips through his jumper, pulling him closer until their bodies were pressed together from lips to knees and Bard's back was colliding with the wall beside the cooler. 

"Get a room, would you!" A voice called, effectively snapping Bard from his trance and breaking Thranduil's hands away from the heated skin above Bard's belt. He was panting and his eyes were slow to focus, his boss not much more than a blur of blue and blond and pink. 

Then he was being dragged across the conference room, past the laughing and cheering crowd. Cat calls followed them through the door and across the hall toward Thranduil's office, until Bard found himself sandwiched between Thranduil and the wood of the door once it had slammed closed. 

His ears rang in the empty air until a moan broke the silence— it took him a moment to realize the sound had come from his mouth. It was deep and debauched and driven further by Thranduil's hips as they pressed against his twitching cock. "Fuck," he breathed as he broke away from Thranduil's mouth, moving instead to scrape his teeth against the angle of his jaw.

"Is this okay?" Thranduil's hands were tangled in Bard's hair and his voice vibrated against Bard's lips where they were pressed to Thranduil's pulse. Bard groaned again and whispered his confirmation as he sought out Thranduil's mouth again. 

Thranduil turned the lock on the office door, his hands immediately sliding beneath the hem of Bard's jumper, pulling the wool and cotton of the shirt beneath up and over his head. The door was cool against Bard's bare shoulders but Thranduil's eyes set fire dancing across the lines of his chest. 

Bard said nothing as Thranduil stared, only arched his back to grind his hips against Thranduil's. He watched as Thranduil's eyes slid closed and his mouth parted around a breathy moan. Bard smirked. His boss was always so reserved, always chose his words so carefully. Bard wanted to hear him scream— to watch him come apart at the seams and let the composed veneer fall away. 

He started with the buttons at Thranduil's collar. He wore no tie and he'd taken off his jacket earlier in the night, when the eggnog and the bustle of the party had made the air seem warmer. Bard pressed his lips to each piece of skin he found, pushed the linen off of Thranduil's shoulders and dragged his mouth along the line of his collarbone.

Next he let his hands drift over Thranduil's abs, toned and firm and jumping beneath the cool rush of air and the light touch of Bard's fingers. He sank to his knees as he unbuckled Thranduil's belt, pressed his nose to the hairs that led down beneath his waistband. He breathed hot air through the silky fabric of Thranduil's pants and smiled at the shudder it drew out. 

He dragged his teeth along the bulge pressing through the gap in Thranduil's trousers, intending to tease but growing too impatient. He hooked his thumbs around the band and pulled them down to pool at Thranduil's ankles. 

He was rewarded with hands fisting tight in his hair when he began to lick broad stripes along Thranduil's shaft. Thranduil's breath hitched when he took the head between his lips, but it wasn't until he'd swallowed the whole length down that he drew his first real moan from his boss's lips. 

It was worth the effort. 

Thranduil's voice was low and deep and it rumbled all throughout his body, enough that Bard could feel it through his hands at Thranduil's hips and through his tongue when he swallowed around Thranduil's dick. The hands in Bard's hair pulled him away sharply, urging him to stand so Thranduil could crush their mouths together again. 

"Desk," Thranduil growled and pushed Bard away, towards the centre of the room where documents were still strewn across the mahogany desk. Bard turned to face Thranduil again, leaning his hands against the edge and flashing his best seductive smirk. 

Thranduil was on him again in seconds, his trousers and his shoes forgotten by the door, his fingertips digging into the meat of Bard's back as he began to suck at the hinge of Bard's jaw. Thranduil's hands were almost violent as he pried open the buckle of Bard's belt and worked at the zip of his fly. Soon all his clothes were gone, heaped in a withered pile on the floor by Bard's feet and kicked aside, but not before Bard dug a condom out of his pocket.

"Hopeful, were you?" Thranduil's eyes were bright as he began to stroke him, Bard's mind still hazy and swimming and struggling to comprehend. "Coming into my office, offering me a drink, smiling at me like you could see every dirty thought in my head." Thranduil nuzzled Bard's neck, breathing hot against his damp skin. "Did you plan this?" 

"No plans," Bard panted. "But I'd like to know more about these thoughts of yours." 

Thranduil released him then, urging him to turn around and face the desk after one last heated kiss. Bard was dizzy as he leaned over the hard wood, his sweaty palms sticking to the shiny lacquer as Thranduil pushed his legs further apart. "I think of you. Like this. Spread out for me. Straining, aching, wanting." 

"Yes," Bard moaned. God, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so turned on. Thranduil touched him then, one hand gripping his arse and the other sliding between his legs, the fingers wet and hot against his hole. Thranduil pushed and Bard moaned again, let his head hang heavy between his arms as Thranduil's finger breeched him in one smooth motion. 

"I think of you in that grey suit, the one that _stretches_ across your thighs and clings to your arms," Thranduil whispered in Bard's ear, stretching and working him open in slow strokes that had Bard's legs trembling. "I think of tearing it off of you in the elevator." 

Thranduil slipped a second finger alongside the first and Bard felt the first sparks of the most delicious burn. "I think of you beneath my desk, my cock in your hot mouth. I think of you sucking me until I come." Thranduil pressed himself up against Bard's back, his cock sliding between Bard's legs and against his own hand where he was spreading his fingers wide. "I think of you. Desperate and ready. Begging. Can you beg for me, Bard?" 

"God yes!" He thought he might explode if Thranduil didn't hurry, thought he might die if he couldn't have more of him. Thranduil stretched him wider with a third finger as Bard arched his back, pressing his arse further back to feel the slide of Thranduil's cock against the crease of his thigh. "Please," he whined. "More." 

"More what?" Thranduil straightened behind him, the skin of Bard's back prickling with the lost warmth of Thranduil's skin. 

"Everything. Anything! Just— fuck, just more! Please!" 

"Tell me what you want," Thranduil purred as he slipped his fingers from Bard's body, leaving him aching, gaping, twitching and empty. 

"I want your cock," Bard gasped. "I want you to fuck me. I want you to get hard every time you sit at this desk, thinking about me. I want— ffffffffffuuuuck!" Bard's words were caught in his chest as Thranduil pushed the head of his cock inside. It burned and it stretched and it felt so much bigger in his arse than it had in his mouth but Bard pushed back, his blood leaping at the sound of Thranduil's hitched breath. 

"This?" Thranduil gasped as he sank in deeper. "This what you wanted?" 

"Yes," Bard whimpered. His arms began to shake and his legs began to burn. He rocked himself further back until Thranduil's hands came to grip his hips, holding him still as Thranduil began to fuck him, gaining in speed until Bard collapsed onto his elbows on the desk. "Oh, fuck. Faster," Bard tipped his hips and spread his legs further, felt Thranduil's hands settle into the crease at the tops of his thighs so he could pull Bard against him with each thrust. 

Thranduil built up a rhythm, punctuated by breathy moans and desperate whispers until Bard clenched around him. He stuttered and faltered, moaning in earnest, buried deep inside as Bard gripped him tighter. God, he sounded beautiful. Bard's cock was aching in the most delicious way, heavy and leaking between his legs as Thranduil drew back and thrust forward. He fucked him harder, faster, his movements growing shorter, sharper, more frenzied until he reached around to grip the base of Bard's cock. 

Bard cried out, babbling desperate pleas and curses and promises. 

"Do you want to come?" Thranduil's voice was gravelly and low and close by Bard's ear. He slowed his thrusts, sank inside slow and purposeful, grinding and gyrating when he'd sunk as deep as he could go. Fire sparked along Bard's skin when Thranduil's cock brushed over his prostate. Bard cried out, his hips twitching and his knees threatening to buckle. His hands balled into fists, crinkling papers between his fingers and throwing pens to the floor. 

Thranduil pulled out and thrust in again, hitting Bard's prostate dead on and holding him there, the twitches and small movements of Bard's hips only serving to drag the head of his cock over the nerves again and again. "I said," Thranduil squeezed Bard's cock again and dipped down to drag his teeth across Bard's shoulders. "Do you want to come?" 

"You're fucking evil," Bard cried. 

"Answer the question, Bowman." 

"Yes! Yes yes yes yes," Bard babbled. "Please," he sobbed. "I need to come! Please let me come!" Bard was practically shouting, though he could barely hear himself over the roar of blood in his ears. 

Thranduil began to fuck him in earnest again, his hips slapping Bard's arse and his cock battering his prostate with every thrust. Bard was crying— tears rolled down his cheeks as he moaned into the desk. Thranduil was close, he could tell— though he wasn't sure he remembered his own name, Bard knew Thranduil was close by the way his hips had lost their rhythm and the way his breath fell sharp across Bard's neck. 

A string of moans fell from Thranduil's lips and onto Bard's sweaty skin. His forehead came to rest against Bard's shoulders and his hips stuttered. He let go of Bard's cock and gave him one decisive tug and it was all over. Bard's vision went black as his orgasm tore through him. He was lightheaded, static sparking all across his body as he went limp.

They stayed that way for a while, Bard bringing his thoughts back to order and struggling to even out his breathing. Thranduil's arms were around him— possibly the only thing keeping him from falling to the carpeted floor. He picked his head up off the desk when Thranduil shifted behind him, drawing his cock out slowly. Bard stood on unsteady legs and turned to face his boss. 

He laughed and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his boss's swollen lips, swiping the elf hat off his head.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://ofplanet-earth.tumblr.com)! feel free to come say hi :)


End file.
